The Road Not Taken
by Aromene
Summary: Just because you start out on a journey, doesn't mean you're going to end up where you intended. Bilbo leaves the Shire in TA3001, bound for adventures. A shirebunny.
1. Chapter I

**Disclaimer:  Oh Valar, I wish I owned even a fraction of Tolkien's creation, but alas I do not.  Characters, setting, plot; it all belongs to J.R.R. or Peter Jackson. Except the quotes, which belong to their respective owners.  And the title, which obviously belongs to Robert Frost.**

**AN: Why this idea suddenly popped into my head, I have no clue.  I know I was watching Fellowship when it happened.  And looking for a Robert Frost poem for Grav.  I scrounged ff.net to see how many fics, if any, might have been written on this topic…and found almost nothing.  This is just one of those stories that are missing from the books and the movies.  Only brief mention is ever given of what happened to Bilbo after he left the Shire on his birthday.   This is going to follow movie verse, just because that means there are no dwarves trailing along after Bilbo and because, according to what Bilbo says in Rivendell, he never made it to the Lonely Mountain again.  Forgive the author her deviations from canon.**

**Dedication:  To Grav, who loves hobbits (though I can't understand _why_).  Valin nostárë, mellon nin: it's only fair.**

**Enjoy!**

**The inspiration:**

_Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-  
I took the one less traveled by,  
And that has made all the difference._

_~The Road Not Taken, _Robert Frost

                     ~~~~~~~

_"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door.  You step onto the road, if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to."_

_~The Fellowship of the Ring _(movie)

            Bilbo took a full breath of cool night air, relishing the clean scent of fields and forests.  He looked back along the path he had trod, but in the sparse moonlight he couldn't see much at all.  The hobbit contemplated stopping for the night, but quickly decided otherwise.  He was still within the Shire, and the less people that saw old Bilbo Baggins taking the East Road out of hobbit territory the better.  Not to mention any other beings that might be using the road as well.

            He took another deep breath and continued on his way.  The going was easy; had been for the last three days since he had stepped out of his door on the Hill at Bag End and set off on this journey of his.  Three days since he had left the Ring behind in Frodo and Gandalf's care.

            He could still feel it sometimes, in his pocket.  And the call of it still haunted his thoughts.  Gandalf had been right; he had been far too attached to the thing.  But leaving it to Frodo, knowing the same might happen to the poor boy…. It was nearly enough to make Bilbo turn around and head for home again.  But a small, and very logical part of him, knew he couldn't.  He had started this new adventure, and he had better finish it.

            He reasoned he had already done the hardest thing, leaving the Ring and leaving his home, with no intention in his heart of ever returning.  Bilbo spared a moment to worry over how Frodo must be coping, and then quickly stopped.  If he continued to think about what was behind him, he was never going to get to what was _ahead_ of him.

            And there was a good deal ahead, or so he planned.  It had been so many long years since he had been out of the Shire, and he longed to see the world once more.  To visit the places from his previous journey, and perhaps some new ones as well.  And then settle down in Rivendell and finish that book of his.  He hoped Elrond wouldn't mind him taking up residence in the Last Homely House; but Bilbo couldn't think of a better place conducive to writing.

            The hobbit glanced at the sky, noting that dawn was not far off, and indeed the eastern horizon was beginning to lighten.  Bilbo could almost imagine he could see the Misty Mountains from where he walked, though his mind told him they were much too far off yet.  

            Perhaps he should look for a place to rest for a few hours, before continuing his journey.  He had made good time, with all his walking, and few stops and another day would see him firmly out of the Shire and on his way to Bree.  Bilbo contemplated stopping there for a few days, for he did not want to miss the opportunity again.  And no doubt the bumbling innkeeper…what was his name?  Butterball?  No, that wasn't it.  Butterbur!  Yes, no doubt Butterbur would have news of what passed in the outside world, something which Bilbo greatly desired to hear before he went much further.  And if Bilbo was really lucky, perhaps he would come upon some dwarves or a Ranger or two at the Inn.  He would gain a good deal _more_ information that way.

            Bilbo glanced off to his right and beheld the looks of a nice clearing between the trees, not far off the road.  It would be safe enough, he supposed, for he was still within the Shire after all, and hobbits had had no problems inside their territory in years.  He had meant to ask Gandalf about that, he suddenly remembered.  For hobbits were notorious for abhorring violence of any kind, and he doubted anyone but the Brandybucks would even think about placing a watch on the borders.  But _something_ must be guarding them, because, though dwarves were sometimes seen crossing Shire land on their way to the mountains, not much else ever was.  And Bilbo was not naive enough to believe that only dwarves roamed the entire area of Eriador.

            Bilbo, having now reached the clearing, concluded that it would do quite well for a few hours of rest.  He proceeded to set his pack down and roll out his blanket, and then set about scrounging a meal from his supplies; for he realized he was actually quite hungry.  And tragedy upon tragedy, he couldn't remember when he last ate!  That wouldn't do at all.

            So Bilbo ate a light meal, or at least light for a hobbit, and then settled down upon his blanket to catch a few hours of sleep.

~~~~~~~

            He awoke to find it much later than he had thought to sleep; nearly noon by judge of the sun and his stomach!  He ate a hurried meal this time, eager to be on his way again.

            Within a half hour the hobbit was again making his way along the road, with the firm intent on not stopping until sundown when he was passed the Brandywine.  

            Now, perhaps it seems strange that Bilbo would wish to pass _out _of the Shire before he stopped to eat and rest again, but dear Bilbo Baggins firmly believed it would be quite safe to attempt such a thing, and that if it wasn't he could easily defend himself, having fought a dragon before.

            He set off with renewed purpose, and traveled easily for many hours, thankfully without encountering a soul.  He thought he was in the clear until he reached the river crossing, which was not far off, when he heard the sound of a horse coming towards him from behind.  It was a sound out of place in the quiet peace of nature, for to Bilbo's ears it was quite obviously a horse, and not the type of ponies that hobbits normally used.

            Bilbo scrambled off the road, though he was not really afraid at all, but did not much want to be seen nonetheless.  Hiding behind a tree in the shadows cast by the afternoon sun, he watched in silence as a brown horse, carrying a grey-clad rider came trotting along the road.  Bilbo was forced to hide his shock, for the rider was none other than Gandalf himself!

            For a split second Bilbo actually contemplated staying in hiding, but sense soon got the better of him.  He stepped from his tree out onto the road, and hailed the wizard.

            "Gandalf, my old friend!  What a coincidence to see you.  I had thought you would stay longer in at Bag End with Frodo.  Nothing has happened, has it?" Bilbo asked in sudden concern.

            "Bilbo Baggins, plenty has happened with your sudden disappearance and all, but Frodo is quite fine, I assure you.  No, no, I have things to do Bilbo, and they do not include lounging about Bag End being fed eight square meals a day.  I am on my way to Rivendell to see Elrond and then off to the East.  And I am in something of a hurry."  The wizard regarded the hobbit standing in front of him closely, as if looking for something.  But whatever it was, he seemed not to find it, and soon stopped his scrutiny, for which Bilbo was thankful.

            "Ah, that is why you left your cart.  Well, I won't detain you a moment longer.  Though, would you mind very much carrying a message to Elrond from me?"

            Gandalf shook his head with a smile.  "I shall be sure to warn the Master of Rivendell to expect your arrival in a few weeks.  That will give him plenty of time to stalk up on food!"  

            Bilbo was somewhat affronted by this statement.  "If you are implying that I plan to eat the poor lord out of his home, I must take offense.  I am only one hobbit Gandalf, and I do not eat nearly as much as most."  But he was smiling up at the wizard with a twinkle in his eyes.

            Gandalf smiled right back.  "I was implying no such thing, you silly hobbit.  But I must be on my way.  I will give your regards to Elrond, and tell him you shall arrive by the end of October.  But do not dally long or much my friend, or you shall worry the 'poor lord' and he will have to send elves to look for you.  That would not make him very happy, I should not think."

            "I will not tarry much at all, for I am eager already for a soft bed and good company."  And Bilbo put a hand to his back as if it pained him.  "It seems I must be more out of practice than I thought!  All those years of lounging in the Shire have made me soft I think.  Ah well, the next few weeks shall cure that.  Thank you Gandalf.  Have a safe journey, wherever it takes you."

            He looked up to find Gandalf regarding him strangely again, though Bilbo thought it was for a different reason.  "Perhaps you are simply growing old at long last, mellon.  A safe and pleasant journey to you as well.  You will reach Rivendell soon enough!"  And with one last wave Gandalf was riding off down the road.

            Bilbo followed at a slow walk, pondering the wizard's words aloud.  "Getting old? Oh surely not!  Why, I feel better than I have in years!  Though, perhaps that rest on the hard ground was a bit too much for one as out of shape as I.  Well, there's nothing for it, I shall simply have to get used to it."

            The old hobbit continued on his way, even more set to reach the bridge as soon as he might.  It was not until sometime later that he realized he had forgotten to ask Gandalf his nagging question of why the Shire was so protected.


	2. Chapter II

**Disclaimer:  Oh Valar, I wish I owned even a fraction of Tolkien's creation, but alas I do not.  Characters, setting, plot; it all belongs to J.R.R. or Peter Jackson. Except the quotes, which belong to their respective owners.  And the title, which obviously belongs to Robert Frost.**

~~~~~~~

            Bree was quite a bit deal more boisterous than he remember from sixty years before.  Bilbo walked through the town, trying to keep to the shadows along the road as much as possible; not so much to remain hidden, but rather to avoid the comings and goings of the Big People.  Bilbo thought it must be market day or some such thing, for they were many about.

            Breathing a sigh of relief as he caught sight of the Prancing Pony sign blowing in the wind, he made a bee-line for the Inn, narrowly missing being run over by a horse and cart.

            "Hey, now, watch yourself!" the driver shouted, but spared the hobbit no more than a glance.

            Ducking into the entrance of the Inn, he was confronted with the welcoming smell of roasted meat, fresh bread, and smoke.  Oh how wonderful it was to be back in civilization once more!

            The Inn was nearly as busy as the streets had been, for it was getting late in the afternoon and approaching the time when men frequented such places.  But with a little effort, Bilbo was able to pull himself up to look over the counter, and catching sight of a bell, quickly run the instrument.

            Within seconds a voice called from the back, "A moment, if you please!  I am coming!"  It was soon followed by the appearance of a round, harried looking man that Bilbo vaguely remembered as being the Innkeeper.

            "Oh, hello Master Hobbit.  What might I do for you?  Looking for a room?"

            "Hello to you as well Mr. Butterbur, and yes I am looking for exactly that.  And a meal and ale as well!  I've been on the road for days, you see, and quite ready to enjoy a few missed luxuries."

            "On the road?  I didn't think hobbits were mighty fond of travel.  But suit yourself;" it was quite obvious to Bilbo that the man did not remember him.  "I have just the room for you, right at the back with round windows and doors just the way you like them.  I'll get one of the boys to show you the way.  Would you be wanting your supper in your room?"

            Bilbo entertained the thought of passing the evening in the common room, but decided he was much too tired for such company at that moment.  He was planning on staying a few days, in any event; there would be plenty of time for him to gather news.

            "In my room, would be wonderful sir."

            "Good, good!"  Butterbur turned towards the kitchen he had recently exited, and called in a painfully loud voice: "Dob!  Hoy, Dob!  Get yourself out here and see to this little sir.  Dob!"  He yelled again.

            Bilbo felt somewhat embarrassed to have been the cause of such loud noise, but it did not seem to bother any of the men in the room.  They must be quite used to it.  Suddenly, a young boy popped out of the back room, looking just as harried as Butterbur appeared.  "Yes, sir?"

            "Dob, see to our guest.  He'll be wanting the back room, with a lit fire, and you're to bring him dinner in an hour, is that understood?"

            Dob nodded quickly as Butterbur returned to his work.  "Right this way, Master Hobbit," he said and led the way from the noisy room.

            Bilbo was quite happy to see that the Inn had made a few nice additions since he last passed through.  There was indeed a nice cozy, hobbit sized room at the back of the building, complete with scaled furniture.  It was just perfect, Bilbo thought.

            Dob was lighting a fire in the hearth, so Bilbo set about unpacking his things while the boy worked.  

            "Anything else you be wanting until dinner, sir?"

            "No, thank you, I think I'm set.  But mind you bring ale with my meal!"  Bilbo felt obliged to remind the boy.

            "Of course, sir.  Good-day to your sir."  He closed the door tight behind him, drowning out what little sound there was that carried to the back of the Inn.  Bilbo was left in peace and quiet.

            "Well, now what do you suppose I should do until dinner?" he asked aloud, but the room gave no answer.

~~~~~~~

            A sharp knock on the door brought him back to consciousness, and he realized with a mournful groan that he had fallen asleep without even undressing himself of his travel-stained clothes!  Bilbo was a little disconcerted that he had now slept overmuch twice on his journey, and he dearly hoped it would not become a regular occurrence.

            Pulling himself out of bed with, at least he thought, too much effort he went to answer the door.  Dob stood there, waiting anxiously and still looking as harried as before.  

            "Your supper, sir!" and without waiting for an answer the boy stepped around the small hobbit and deposited the tray on a nearby table.  "Will you be wanting anything else before bed, sir?"

            "Oh," Bilbo stuttered, still not fully awake.  "Yes, uh, yes.  I should think a bath might avail me well, for as many days as I've been on the road."

            "Oh, surely, sir.  I'll come back in an hour or so with hot water," and he disappeared out the door.

            Bilbo tried to shake himself back to the land of the living, and only half succeeded.  "Well, the best cure for that is food," he said.

            The tray was giving off a pleasant smell of roasted chicken, potatoes and a nice mug of ale.  Bilbo sighed in pleasure; oh he had surely missed the comforts of home indeed.  

            He was long since done his meal by the time Dob returned, lugging a small bathing tub with him and leading a young maid who carried two buckets of hot water.      "There you are sir," the boy said, after he had filled the tub up and thrown another log on the fire.  "Anything else?"  The question came easily enough, but Bilbo felt that it was asked in the kind of voice that clearly said: 'please say no'.  So Bilbo said "no, thank you.  I'm quite alright till tomorrow." And bid the boy and girl goodnight.

            In short order he was lounging in the tub, the perfect size for his small form, and enjoying the first bath he had had in a week.  He would have to make certain to bath again before he left, for it would be his last chance until he reached Rivendell, almost three weeks hence.  He barely found the energy to wash himself, and did not move from the water until it was so cold he began to shiver.

            Climbing from the tub he hurriedly dried himself off and dressed in his night robe.  Bilbo glanced at the fire, noticing the log Dob had added was nearly burnt down.  He added another, and then climbed into the warmth of the hobbit sized bed.  He was asleep within moments.

~~~~~~~

            Bilbo had been at Bree for three days, and had found that he had enjoyed every minute of it.  Whenever he seemed to need anything Dob, Butterbur or one of the maids was always on hand and happy to help.  He supposed this must be because he was the only hobbit staying at the Inn, and there were only a handful of men renting a room as well.

            However, Bilbo was a bit disappointed; for in three days he had seen neither dwarves nor Rangers at the Inn, nor heard of any having passed through Bree in more than a month.  But Bilbo had learned something of events in the outer world from the men who were staying at the Pony.  He was quite relieved to hear that there were no great problems in Eriador, and that the East-West road was safe for traveling.

            Though the night before, when Bilbo had consumed perhaps too much ale than was strictly good for him, he had let slip that he was on his way to the Misty Mountains to visit the elves of Rivendell.  The men in the common room, those staying there and those simply having a drink, had spent the better part of the rest of the evening attempting to talk him out of it.  And the few hobbits that had been in the Inn had quickly renounced any friendliness towards Bilbo upon learning this news; and shunned him for being queer!

            Bilbo had been quite put out by the whole thing, thought it was entirely his own fault.  And because of this he had yet to show his face outside of his room.  He told himself he wasn't hiding, but was merely enjoying his last chance for a rest before he set out on his way the next morning.

            He had already spoken with Butterbur that morning, to settle his account and ask for some needed provisions for his trip.  The innkeeper obviously thought the hobbit was mad, but had taken his coin nonetheless and sent Dob to the market to get what Bilbo requested.

            It was now late afternoon and Bilbo was waiting for the boy to return so that he could start his packing, and then perhaps work up his courage to show his face in the common room again.  Though the inner voice that argued for staying in his room was winning out.

            The sudden knock on the door startled the hobbit more than he wanted to admit.  It was a very poor time to start jumping at every little noise, Bilbo thought.  There was nothing to indicate his slip last night had put him in any danger.  Well, no danger except having half of Bree think him mad…

            "Coming!" he called towards the door as he trotted across the room to answer it.  Dob was standing there holding a sack in one hand and a rolled up canvas in the other.  "Oh good," Bilbo exclaimed, seeing it, "you found a tent."

            "Yes, sir, just the right size for you I'd say.  And I got all the food you asked for as well."  He dropped both these things onto the table in the room.  "And here's your change, sir," he held out the coins to Bilbo.

            "No, no," the hobbit said.  "Keep them, my lad.  You deserve it."

            For the first time since Bilbo had arrived at the Pony, Dob grinned widely at him.  "Thank you kindly sir!"  

            "Oh, you're welcome.  But don't spend it all in one place!"  Bilbo, chuckling, showed the lad out.

            He turned back to survey the items Dob had brought.  Yes, everything he had asked for was there.  Bringing his rucksack over to the table, he began to repack his things in neat order, with the food on top and easy to reach.  A very hobbit way of packing, some would think, but to Bilbo it was second nature.  He secured the tent to the bottom of the pack, rolled his blanket up and attached it to the top, and then firmly pronounced himself packed.  

            This only left working up the courage to dine in public.

~~~~~~~

            Bilbo managed to slip out of Bree all but unnoticed the next morning.  Part of the reason for his unheralded exit was that he did it just as the sun was peeking over the horizon, and the majority of the town was not yet awake.  The biggest reason however, was that he had been shown a back exit out of the town the night before by a helpful Dob.  Bilbo was not certain was he was all of a sudden worried about his departure being known, but something was bothering him, and he was willing to go the extra step just to be careful.

            He had made good time since then; he was far out of sight of the village before he stopped for a quick noon meal, having not encountered anyone on the road.  He took only a short break, though, for he wish to be on his way.  The stop at Bree had reminded him of the comforts of home, and he longed to reach Rivendell as soon as he might.

            Determined to walk as long as he could each day before he stopped to sleep, he set off along the road, singing merrily.

_Upon the hearth the fire is red,_

_Beneath the roof there is a bed;_

_But not yet weary are our feet,_

_Still round the corner we may meet_

_A sudden tree or standing stone_

_That none have seen but we alone._

_Tree and flower and leaf and grass,_

_Let them pass! Let them pass!_

_Hill and water under sky,_

_Pass them by! Pass them by!_

            And so the hobbit started off on his journey, quite content with the world.

~~~~~~~

AN: The wonderful song belongs to Tolkien, and is in the Fellowship of the Ring.


	3. Chapter III

**Disclaimer:  Oh Valar, I wish I owned even a fraction of Tolkien's creation, but alas I do not.  Characters, setting, plot; it all belongs to J.R.R. or Peter Jackson. Except the quotes, which belong to their respective owners.  And the title, which obviously belongs to Robert Frost.**

~~~~~~~

            Singing was the first thing Bilbo heard, almost as soon as he had crossed the Ford of the Bruinen.  He was surprised, for he did not think even elven voices could carry so far.  But the soothing melody relaxed him, and welcomed him to the sanctuary.  So caught up in it he was, that he did not noticed the grey-clad figures emerging from the trees around him.

            So when a brown-hair elf, with silver eyes and a commander bearing, called out to him, it quite startled poor old Bilbo.

            "Hail, and well met, friend!" Elladan called to the hobbit.  

            Bilbo gave off a yelp of shock and spun around to come face to face…or more correctly, face to waist, with the half-elven.  "Oh dear me," Bilbo puffed, "you scared me, sir!"

            "I am sorry, friend, for it was not my intention.  But dear me, unless I am very much mistaken, you are one of the Periannath, am I correct?"  At these words the tension seemed to drain from the other elves on guard, and a few melted back into the trees.

            "Oh, yes, I am.  Bilbo Baggins," Bilbo said, finally recovering himself.  "At your service."

            Elladan smiled.  "Bilbo Baggins!  Long has it been since you visited this valley.  Be welcome!  I am Elladan, son of Elrond.  Come, it would be my pleasure to lead you to my father."   The young elven-lord motioned down the path ahead with a wave.

            "Well, thank you, my lord.  That is most kind of you.  I must admit, I've quite forgotten the way; it has been some while since I was last here, as you said.  But, please forgive me, I see now you are kin to Elrond, but I did not realize he had any children.  I don't think we've ever met."

            Elladan shook his head, causing his brown locks to flow about his shoulders.  "No, we have not.  For when last you were here, my brother and I were visiting the Golden Wood of our grandmother.  But it is a pleasure to meet the famous dragon-slayer, at long last!"  The elves all enjoyed a hearty laugh at that, and Bilbo joined in.

            "Oh nonsense, that was not my doing.  I just tagged along on that journey."

            "You are too modest, friend, for we have had the whole story from Gandalf himself.  But come, no doubt you are tired from your long travels, and hungry as well, if I have heard correctly."  Elladan began to walk down the path, slowing to a pace Bilbo could easily keep up with.

            "Yes to both, my lord.  And you have heard quite right."  Food was beginning to sound quite appealing, Bilbo thought.  It had been some hours since he had last eaten.

            "Then we had best hurry, for I would not want you to starve!"  Elladan cried and led the way to the Last Homely House.

~~~~~~~

            A few hours later, Bilbo, having bathed, dressed, eaten and otherwise refreshed himself, was shown the way to Elrond's study.  Elladan had indented to lead Bilbo directly to his father on arrival, but Elrond had been in a meeting, and Bilbo had announced that he should at least wash himself before he was presented to the Lord of Rivendell.  Elladan had laughed at that, assuring the hobbit that others in far worse states had met with his father, but Bilbo was not quite sure why it was so funny.

            "Here you are, sir," the grey-clad guard who had shown him the way stopped in front of a half opened oak door.  "My lord is expecting you," he said, and then abruptly disappeared down the hall.

            Bilbo was not quite sure if he liked this elven characteristic.  And, honestly, what sort of people always wore grey?  How very dull and boring the Rivendell elves seemed; not at all like Bilbo remembered.

            He knocked softly on the door and then poked his head inside when he received no answer.  "Hello," he called.  "Lord Elrond?"

            "Yes," a pleasant voice drifted down from above him.  Bilbo looked up to realize there was a balcony on the second floor, and that Elrond Half-elven was standing leaning against it, and smiling welcomingly down at his guest.

            "Oh, Master Elrond, it's wonderful to see you again."  For indeed, Bilbo admitted to himself, he had been looking forward to seeing the elf again.  Elrond was always good for conversation of history or lore, and Bilbo hoped he would quite useful in assisting him in writing his book.

            "And it is good to see you again, my dear hobbit.  Though I must say, when Gandalf told me of your imminent arrival, I was a bit surprised.  I had not imagined you would leave the comfort of your homelands again."  As the lord spoke he had made his way down from the second floor, and now stood in front of Bilbo.  "Will you sit and talk with me?" Elrond motioned towards a table across the room.

            "Oh, yes!  Why I'd love to, my lord."

            Elrond glanced at him in amusement.  "I am not your lord Bilbo, and you need not address me so formally.  Elrond shall do fine."

            "Oh, yes, of course, Elrond.  It sounds a might shorter, doesn't it?"  Bilbo managed to clamber up onto the chair without too much difficulty, but looked on in longing as Elrond settled himself gracefully into the seat opposite.

            "Just a 'might'," Elrond agreed.  "So, Bilbo, what may I ask brings you half way across Middle-earth.  Surely it is not to visit me?"  The elf's eyes were twinkling, and Bilbo joined him in a chuckle.

            "Well, I must say, though visiting the valley is a pleasant distraction; it is not my main reason for having set out.  I'm getting on in years, as you probably are aware,  and before I'm unable, I wanted to go back – that is go east – and visit the places from my last adventure.  And perhaps some new ones as well."

            "Well, that sounds like an admirable goal, friend.  Did you have any specific plans at all?"

            "Well, no, not specifically, except that I'd like to leave as soon as possible.  The real reason I came here, and please forgive me for being so forward Elrond, was that I can't possibly travel all the way to Mirkwood on my own.  I'd be lost within a day, I'm sure!"  

            Imladris' lord had to agree with this.  "But you are in luck, Bilbo.  My sons, who you have now met, are leaving not a week hence to travel to King Thranduil's halls and visit with his son.  I am sure they would happily take you along with them."

            Bilbo's face lit up with wonder.  "Oh, my lord, that would be just the thing.  If you're certain they would not mind, I am sure they would be wonderful traveling companions indeed.  Though I'm afraid I'll hold them up, for I can't travel as fast as an elf.  But oh, this is wonderful!"  He wished sorely to get up and dance in glee around the room, but thought it very improper in from of an elven lord, even one who he considered a friend.

            "I shall inform them today, then.  But do not fear about slowing them down, for I think the company would be good for them."  He looked about ready to elaborate but a sharp rapping came from the door, which prevented him from continuing.

            "My lord," another grey-clothed elf, a female Bilbo noted, paused a few steps into the study. 

            "Yes, Rilómë?  Has something happened?"

            "Yes, my lord.  Lord Aragorn has returned from the wild, and is much in need of your help."  Bilbo noticed Elrond's breathe catch at this statement, but in another heartbeat the half-elf had mastered himself.  

            "How serious?" Elrond was rising already, seemingly having forgotten Bilbo's presence.  

            "Elladan, who met him in the courtyard, says it is not life-threatening, but he bid you come quickly nonetheless."  

            Elrond gave a small sigh of relief upon hearing this, and suddenly seemed to notice Bilbo again.  "My friend, please forgive me, but I must go.  Rilómë, would you please show Bilbo the way back to his room?  I will speak with you later!"  He called, already rushing from the room.

            Bilbo gave the messenger elf a queer look.  "I don't mean to sound nosy, but is everything alright?  Lord Elrond looked very worried."  He allowed the elf to lead him from the study and down the hall.

            "Lord Elrond's youngest son has returned from his travels, wounded as usual.  Though, I am glad to report he has not done himself as much damage as usual."

            Bilbo screwed up his face in confusion at this statement.  Lord Elrond's youngest?  But Bilbo had just met Elrohir, Elladan's younger twin; no one had ever said anything about _more_ children.  "How many children does Elrond have?"  He found himself inquiring out loud, but too late he realized that the question was not entirely appropriate.

            "He has three strictly speaking, Master Hobbit," the elf maiden said.  "But he adopted Estel – forgive me – Aragorn some years ago.  Ah, I believe this is your room?"

            And indeed it was.  "Oh, thank you my lady, for your help."

            She bowed in silence and left him standing in the hallway: confused, alone, and just a little worried about Lord Elrond's mysterious young son.


	4. Chapter IV

**Disclaimer:  Oh Valar, I wish I owned even a fraction of Tolkien's creation, but alas I do not.  Characters, setting, plot; it all belongs to J.R.R. or Peter Jackson. Except the quotes, which belong to their respective owners.  And the title, which obviously belongs to Robert Frost.**

~~~~~~~

            In the three days Bilbo had been at Rivendell, he had not seen hide or hair of Elrond or his sons since his arrival.  No one seemed to want to tell him anything either, and the hobbit was getting quite worried that something terrible had happened.

            Bilbo was currently lounging on my of the soft benches in the library, books spread out around him, and writing furiously away.

            "Good afternoon, Bilbo," the soft voice spoke from beside him.  The hobbit jumped so high he nearly fell off his seat, but did succeed in sending one of the books crashing to the floor.

            Elrond looked sorry for startling him as he bent to pick the book up.  "Hum, I forgotten I had this," he said of the book.  "Brushing up on your Quenya, my friend?"

            Bilbo had managed by this time to calm himself down and reorganize the books and himself on the bench.  "Oh, yes, I've translating some poetry.  Forgive me, Elrond, but I've not seen you in days.  Is everything alright?"

            "Yes, and it is I who must apologize.  Not doubt you were quite worried when I up and disappeared a few days ago.  But I've hardly left Estel's bedside for the last two days, and did not even think to send word to you."

            Bilbo's eyes widened at this mention.  "Oh, my lord!  I do hope the boy is alright?  I feared something dreadful when I didn't see you."

            A look of pain and anguish crossed Elrond's face for a moment.  "No, no, he will be well.  In time.  Estel, or Aragorn, as he is now called, had a small encounter with an orc party on his way back across the mountains.  The orcs, at least, came out of it worst off, for none survived, but Estel was injured, and the wound was poisoned.  He is healed now, but still rests, for which I am thankful.  Too often has he returned such.  But, you must think me odd, for you do not know who I speak of.  Estel is my foster-son, one of the Rangers of the North.  Indeed, you have met him before, when last you were here.  He was only a child of ten then, but he was fascinated by you, as I recall."            

            Bilbo thought hard about this, until suddenly the memory came back, of a small child hiding behind statues as he stalked Bilbo and the dwarves around Rivendell.  "Oh, yes, I do remember!  But, that boy was mortal…oh."

            "Yes, he is mortal.  More than that I will not tell, for it is not my place to.  In a few days, when he has regained his strength, no doubt he will want to visit with you before you leave.  Now, as I have been remiss in my duties as host, would you accept my invitation to a private dinner?  I believe we have much to discuss."

            Bilbo smiled gladly.  "Oh, yes Elrond.  I would be honoured.  Just let me finish with this, and clean up a bit, and then I shall be ready."

            "Take all the time you need, my friend.  I will go and check on Estel before we sup."  

            Bilbo's smiled turned into a frown of concentration as soon as Elrond had turned his back.  Well, this is a puzzle, he thought.  Now why would a great elf-lord go about adopting a mortal?  There is more to this than meets the eye!

~~~~~~~

            Indeed, it was not until the day before Bilbo was due to leave with the twins, that Elrond announced to him that Estel, or Aragorn as he was also called, was fit enough for company.

            Bilbo was hesitant as he followed the half-elf into the room, to find a man propped up on what seemed a mound of pillows on the bed.

            "Do you feel up to some company Estel?  I've brought Bilbo to visit you, for he is very curious.  I trust you remember the dear hobbit?"

            Bilbo steeled his courage and stepped out from behind Elrond's shadow to meet the man's eyes.

            "Why yes, ada!  Greetings Bilbo Baggins; it has been some years since last I saw you.  Though you have not changed much!"  Aragorn was smiling brightly at him, and Bilbo could detect, though it was difficult at first, the look of the playful boy he had first met sixty years before.

            "Mae govannen," Bilbo answered, though he was not certain why he did it in elvish.  "'Tis good to see you again, sir."

            "Oh, none of that please!  I am a good deal too young for you to be calling sir!  Aragorn, or Estel will do just find.  But come and sit with me Bilbo, for there is much I would ask you."

            "It would be my pleasure," Bilbo said, and took at seat in the chair at the man's bedside.

            "Well, I know you are in good hands, ion.  But, please, do not overdo it?  And do not move from that bed!"  Elrond's orders were called out good naturally, but there was an underlying note of command to them.

            "Yes, ada," Estel said, as if he had heard the same thing many times before.  "I will be good, I promise."

            Elrond smiled and closed the door behind him.

            "Oh, Bilbo, it's wonderful to finally be able to talk to you.  Ada would not let me, when last you were here.  But please, if it is not too much to ask, would you tell me the story of your adventure?  Gandalf told it to me once, when I was young, but no doubt he left out much, as he always does with things.  I'd like to hear your version."

            Bilbo smiled.  "Well, I can't imagine it's any better than Gandalf's, but I'll try my best!"

~~~~~~~

            Bilbo awoke the morning of his departure to discover he could barely movie for the pain in his back.  He thought he had simply slept in some queer position, but after a few attempts at practice stretches he was forced to admit he wouldn't be going anywhere that day.

            With a long suffering sigh he set about getting dressed, trying to bend his poor back as little as possible.  It was a painfully long procedure.  Once finished, and he had regained his breathe, he set out for the study.

            It was only shortly after dawn, but Elrond always rose early, and like as not he could be found in his library at that hour of the day.  Bilbo hated to tell him he would not be able to leave, and looked forward even less to explaining it to Elladan and Elrohir who had offered to guide him to Mirkwood (they were going to visit the Prince Legolas anyways).  Bilbo shuddered at the thought of what the Lord of Rivendell would say, and even more so at the inevitable taste of the concoction Elrond would soon be forcing down his throat to relieve him of his agony.

            The half-elf might be the greatest healer in Middle-earth, but his medicines, Bilbo concluded, had to taste the worst.

            With one last shudder and subsequent wince of pain, Bilbo found he had suddenly arrived at the library.  He nearly lost his courage, until he thought about what Frodo would say if he were there.  "Honestly uncle, it's only medicine.  It's good for you.  Or at least you always tell me so when you're forcing something foul down _my_ throat!"

            Bilbo came to the realization he was being a coward, and acting like a young child while he was at it.  Ashamed with himself he wasted no time in knocking firmly on the door.  As always it was slightly ajar, and Bilbo knew he was welcome, but it was the polite thing to do.

            A soft call came from within, in the elven-lord's commanding, but kind voice.  Stifling another wince he pushed the door open and slipped inside.

            "Oh, Bilbo, a good morning to you," Elrond called from his desk.

            Bilbo forced a smile to his face as he approached the desk.  "Good morning to you as well Master Elrond."

            Elrond regarded him closely, a confused expression on his face.  "You do not seem to be dressed for travel, Bilbo.  I had thought you were to be leaving soon.  Shouldn't you not be ready by now?"

            "Ah," Bilbo started, "I must apologize, my lord: I do not think I shall be able to leave today."

            Elrond set his quill aside and gave the hobbit his full attention.  "And why is that, my friend?"

            "Well, you see, I have awakened this morning with a rather annoying ache in my back.  It is a might too uncomfortable to be walking about the countryside with." 

            As Bilbo had suspected, as soon as he mentioned a 'pain in his back', Elrond had adopted the look of serious concern that Bilbo had named his 'healer's face'.

            "Do you suppose you simply slept wrong?  Or does it feel like something more," the healer inquired.

            "Something more painful, I think.  Though it is only an ache when I am standing straight.  I'm sure it will be gone by tomorrow and I will be ready to set out then."

            "If you are in that much pain Bilbo, the last thing you should be doing is setting out on a month-long journey over the mountains.  You won't be leaving this valley until I am sure you are well."

            Bilbo sighted in resignation, though he didn't argue it.  There was little point; he knew Elrond would win.  "Your sons shall be disappointed, I fear."

            Elrond smiled, "Oh, they can delay a few days.  And if it should take longer, then they will journey on their own.  There are plenty here that would volunteer to guide you on your travels at a later date.  Now, will you allow me to examine you?"

            Bilbo nodded.  "Yes, for I know you will not let me leave this room otherwise.  And the ache _is_ an annoyance."

            "You give in gracefully, dear hobbit.  Much better than many in this valley."  Elrond was setting his writing aside and rising from the chair.

            "Would I be correct in hazarding that your sons would be among that many?" Bilbo looked at Elrond with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

            "Oh, most assuredly, Bilbo.  The worst of the many in fact.  And that includes Aragorn as well.  Come, we shall find the twins first before they begin to wonder where you are."

            Laughing about the plague of wayward children, the two mismatched friends set off for the dining hall.

~~~~~~~

            "I am aware you will not want to hear this, Bilbo," Elrond started.  He was looking at the hobbit with a serious expression on his face, which had Bilbo not been aware that it was a common look for the Lord of Imladris, would have found him self quite worried.  "I think, my friend that age is finally catching up with you."

            The room was silent.  Elrond was still looking serious, and Bilbo had adopted a contemplative expression.  

            At last the hobbit sighed.  "Perhaps you are right.  I have noticed a good many aches in places that didn't used to ache.  And I've been sleeping more as of late.  Perhaps Gandalf was right, and that blasted ring has done something to me.  Though I suppose it's too late now to do anything about.  Humph, growing old, now that I must say I'm not looking forward to."  He paused and looked thoughtfully at Elrond.  "I suppose what you're trying to say, without actually saying it, is that I'm too old to go traipsing across Arda?"

            "Yes, Bilbo, that is what I am saying.  I do not want you to start off on this journey, only to fall ill, or discover you cannot continue."  Elrond gave him a sympathetic look, but Bilbo saw the pity in it as well.  

            Yes, he though, pity me because I am mortal and growing old and frail.  "Well," he tried to put on a good front.  "I can't say I'm not disappointed; you have to understand I've been looking forward to this trip for years.  But I can't go back to the Shire now."

            "You are, as always welcome to stay here Bilbo, for so long as you wish.  Imladris will be all the livelier for your presence." He fell silent for a moment.  "I am sorry, my friend."

            "Yes, well, thank you Elrond.  I had best be about my day I suppose."  Bilbo got down out of the chair he had been sitting in as gracefully as he could manage and slumped out of the room.

            Elrond looked after him, brows drawn together in a frown.


	5. Epilogue

**Disclaimer:  Oh Valar, I wish I owned even a fraction of Tolkien's creation, but alas I do not.  Characters, setting, plot; it all belongs to J.R.R. or Peter Jackson. Except the quotes, which belong to their respective owners.  And the title, which obviously belongs to Robert Frost.**

~~~~~~~

**AN:  Well, here's the epilogue.  I must give credit where it's due: most of this is copyright Mr. Jackson, 2001.  But I added a few things to flesh out the scene.**

~~~~~~~

            Bilbo watched his nephew being welcomed by his cousins, and smiled.  Ah, how he had missed the boy.  Frodo turned around and Bilbo watched his face light up.

            "Bilbo!" he cried and ran to meet his uncle.  Bilbo slipped off the stone bench, withholding a wince as his back cried out in protest, and enveloped the young hobbit in his arms.  Oh how he had missed him!  "Hello, Frodo, my lad!  Oh it's been so long, hasn't it?  But, come, come, I have a surprise for you, and then we will catch up."

            He led Frodo up to the porch nearby, and once he was settled on a bench, deposited the book in his lap.

            "Bilbo!" Frodo gasped in shock, cradling the Red Book in his arms.  In wonder he opened the cover and peered inside.  "There and back again, A Hobbit's tale, by Bilbo Baggins."  He began to flip through the pages, his look of wonder growing.  "This is wonderful."

            Bilbo smiled, "I meant to go back.  Wander the paths of Mirkwood.  Visit Lake-town.  See the Lonely Mountain again.  But age, it seems has finally caught up with me."

            Frodo stopped at the map of the Shire that had taken Bilbo hours upon hours to get right.  He looked closely at the drawing, and his expression turned wistful.  "I miss the Shire.  I spent all my childhood pretending I was off somewhere else.  Off with you on one of your adventures."  He turned serious, and Bilbo smiled sadly.  "But my own adventure turned out to be quite different.  I'm not like you, Bilbo," and he looked up.

            Bilbo sighed and came to sit down beside Frodo.  "My dear boy.  I am so very sorry about all of this.  But just think, it's all over now, and soon you can return to Bag End and add your own adventure to this book."

            "I'd like that, uncle.  I'd like that very much."


End file.
